


Maybe I'm Still Here

by empress9



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Bipolar Ignis, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Ignis Scientia, caring gladio
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23772643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empress9/pseuds/empress9
Summary: “It must be hard work; keeping up that façade of yours. No one expects you to be perfect, Ignis. I don’t.”Ignis is always the level-headed, scrupulous advisor, until he isn't...An introspective look at an Ignis suffering silently with bipolar disorder.For him, Gladio is an anchor amidst his adversity.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write a piece about Ignis. For me, he's always the one who appears the most put together, so I figured he would also be the one keeping the most bottled up. This was going to just be a one-shot, but I feel like there's more to tell.  
> So enjoy~

“Who said you can’t cry, hmm?”

The wood floor is hard on my back. Cold. I nudge a piece of broken porcelain with my finger.

“No one. Maybe myself. I don’t know…”

“You can cry, Igs.” Gladio is warm next to me. I feel his deep voice reverberate through the wood and maybe into my own chest. He’s got a nice voice. “It won’t break you.”

“Mmmn…” I don’t believe him. Or a part of me doesn’t. The one that’s either keeping me sane or slowly mutilating me. I still can’t tell. Which Ignis was I now…? 

“I cry all the time.” Gladio shifts from his back, turning onto his stomach. He grunts as he settles back down.

We’ve been laying on the floor for almost an hour now.

Talking.

Mostly Gladio.

Ever since he walked in on me. Smashing dishes on the floor of Noct’s apartment.

He’s good at talking though. It distracts me. So I listen.

“I cry when I get frustrated. It’s stupid. But it helps to get it out. And when I read a sad book… gods! I weep, Iggy! Actual weeping.” Gladio laughs and I feel it in my ribs. I want to keep it there forever. “Iris got hurt at the park last week. I was fucking bawling, man. She was fine, but I still _felt it_. It’s silly I know. But it’s real. And it doesn’t break me.”

I know he’s looking at me, but I don’t meet his gaze. Still staring at the stark white ceiling.

“And when I miss my mom. If I didn’t cry about it… then where would the feelings go? Hmm? Locked away forever? So I couldn’t touch her anymore?” Gladio sighs “Is that what you do? Keep all your feelings bottled up? Don’t you ever cry about your parents?”

I sigh too. “I didn’t know them.”

It’s always my excuse. Because it’s true. I was only a baby when they died. 

“But don’t you ever think about them? What they could have been like?”

“Not really.”

I don’t think about them because I don’t want to cultivate the feeling of longing. That unreasonable lurch of the heart, where you fill the hole with memories that could never be, a family that wasn’t real, a happy boy I could never become. I didn’t know him either. The Ignis that was happy.

 _It won’t break you_ , Gladio had said. Didn’t he know that I was already broken?

The white shards of ceramic a testament to my own cracked disposition.

“You’ll wear yourself too thin, Iggy.”

“Probably.” I chuckle.

“I don’t blame you for losing your shit, you know.” Gladio scratches his fingernail against the grain of the wood. “It must be hard work; keeping up that façade of yours. No one expects you to be perfect, Ignis. I don’t.”

I finally turn to look at him. “I shouldn’t let myself get overwhelmed.”

“Hell, if I had to come in here day after day to clean up after Noct’s sorry ass, I’d be a little more than overwhelmed!” Gladio smirks. “It’s ok to let your guard down, Igs. Especially around me. I don’t mind seeing the real you, the one behind all that pent up diligence and what-not.” He nudges me with a knee to my thigh.

“Is this the real me then? What a piss-poor impression I must make.”

“You know what I mean, Ignis. You go on so straight-laced. So meticulous. Half the people who meet you think that you’re some kinda cyborg or something. But I don’t. It makes me understand you more, seeing you like this. If you’d gone on cleaning up after Noct’s bullshit without reacting, I’d be more concerned for you.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Yeah. So take it.”

I pick up a piece of broken ceramic and roll it between my fingers.

My real self…

I didn’t know who he was anymore.

When I’m like this… this state of crashing… falling back to a reality that holds no comfort…

I reach for the Ignis that I should be…

But where can I draw the line? Hmm? It feels like they’re all bleeding together. A watercolor portrait where the pigment runs… overlapping facets… it’s barely a face anymore.

All my edges splinter off. Broken. Cracked.

Where do I draw the line? 

Gladio shuffles, crawling onto his knees, then sitting up. He groans, stretching out his back.

“Godsdamn. You really know how to keep a man occupied, Iggy. But yeah…anyway. I’m always here… if you need to talk… throw stuff… hit something.” He offers me a smile that makes his eyes shine.

Gladio is just being kind… probably because he feels bad seeing me in such a state. But I’m thankful for his company.

He had come to Noctis’s apartment to drop something off. A film he borrowed. I’d been there, cleaning the mess that the young Prince always made. Piles of trash, filth… gods. The boy was insufferable sometimes. I worked for hours. Frantically cleaning. Moving from task to task. I felt like I couldn’t stop; that if I tried, I wouldn’t be able to. There was buzzing… in my head, and my hands maybe… that feeling I hate… when I start coming undone… and then...losing the drive… I couldn’t take it all… it was all too much…

I was in the middle of smashing the Prince’s plates to bits when Gladio walked in.

He didn’t say anything. Not about the mess I made. Nor the hysterical state I was in. Just bent down, gathered some of the porcelain shards. Smiled even. Knowingly. I joined him, kneeling on the hard wood. Gladio talked. And I listened. Coming down from my meltdown. I didn’t notice when we went from kneeling to laying. Talking to venting.

And now-

What about now? After it all…

Will he pretend it hadn’t happened?

Like I’m already preparing to do?

Gladio offers me a hand, pulling me up from the merciless wood floor. My back does little to thank me for the effort of laying still for nearly an hour. I feel the deep ache settle in me. The wake of the aftereffects of my mania.

I watch Gladio clean up the rest of the mess. My sad little revolt. The shards find their way in the bin and I somehow feel the urge to join them.

“Grab your coat.” Gladio says.

“What?” I’m still stretching the twinges in my back.

“C’mon. Can’t just leave the Prince without his dishes can we?” He’s grinning wickedly.

“What then, you aren’t going to divulge my little breakdown to Noct?”

“Your secret’s safe with me, Igs. I promise.” He offers me a warm hand on my shoulder. Somehow I’m still hesitant to meet his gaze. Now that I know he’s beginning to… understand me more. “Now, c’mon. Let’s see if we can pick out the fugliest dishes the mall has to offer. Bet you twenty bucks Noct doesn’t even notice the difference!”

We go and I’m ok.

For now.

Gladio, true to his word, picks out some rather ostentatious excuses for tableware, and I watch him laugh about it. He’s so full of life it almost makes me jealous. But no; Gladio is sunshine to a withering plant. A spark to give me something. Hope? I don’t know. With him, I don’t feel so empty. So I let his high spirits blanket my inner turmoil. If only just for now.

Because later…

When I get home…

I’ll collapse to my bed.

I’ll feel _everything_ … the buzzing in my mind… the replay of everything I’d done that day…

That endless loop in my brain.

And I would succumb to it.

And drown in the wave that has risen from it.

A torrent so strong… I won’t be able to tell when I’d break the surface again.

But maybe…

A text on my phone, lighting up the dark room.

An anchor.

One little message.

Would it light that spark again… maybe…

_[12:26] Next time, let’s not lay on Noct’s floor. Damn back is killing me -G_

I keep the spark in my chest.

It’s a light that reaches me underwater.

Next time.

-


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I find myself looking internally for inspiration for this. Ignis is usually a tough one to write because he's usually rigid, dignified... I find cracking him open and digging deeper makes him more real for me.  
> Enjoy!

There are highs and lows. I recognize this. The rational part of me can see the signs, of course. It still doesn’t give me the power to subdue them.

But I go on.

Because I have to.

Gladio calls from time to time. Maybe to just check in on me. I never call him first, yet somehow… he always knows the right time to call.

Like when I’m so wrapped up in my own thoughts I feel like screaming. I don’t scream. Not to Gladio.

In fact, we develop an amicable rapport.

If not for my incessant rambling.

“Hell Iggy, slow down!” Gladio laughs through the phone. It’s not as nice as it is in real life, but I’ll take the proxy comfort. 

“Sorry, sorry! I know it’s all entirely inconsequential to you-”

“No, don’t worry about it. I’m actually thoroughly entertained.” I can feel him smiling “Who knew there were so many subtleties to pie crust? I certainly didn’t!”

“If I’m boring you, please, we can redirect the conversation-”

“Iggy. Tell me about the crust. Please.”

So I tell him. All because I had asked him what his favorite dessert was.

I know I must be insufferable. But Gladio takes it all in stride. I’m in one of those moods where I can’t quite control my tongue. The thoughts just pour out into a verbal soup that I’m sure Gladio doesn’t have the taste for. But like before, he accedes to me.

I do most of the talking this time. Gladio listens.

At some point I realize my hands have gotten away from me; I’d ended up baking six pies without even really recalling which flavors I’d made.

I’m feeling bold so I invite Gladio over to sample them. We’re sitting at Noct’s counter, giving each pie a thorough evaluation- Gladio can’t pick his favorite flavor, likes them all equally, _or so he says_ \- when the Prince himself walks in, looking highly bewildered.

“We havin’ pie?” He slumps onto the stool.

Gladio grabs him a plate, looking cheeky, and winks at me. The plate is one he had bought; a shiny, floral patterned dish. The prince accepts it and pays it no mind.

“Hmph!” I contain my moment of humor. Making eye contact with Gladio, I find him giving me such a warm look; eyes bright, smile that makes my heart stop, if just for a second. 

“’S good.” Noct remarks through his mouthful of blueberry crumble.

“Yeah, Igs. I reckon the secret is in the crust.” There’s that smile again. The one that’s just for me.

I wonder if Gladio knows the effect he has?

That for me… he might be my favorite flavor…

-

Gladio calls me on the bad days too.

The days where I can’t remember what my hands are supposed to do. Where every step is like walking through water, with my legs tied, and no shoreline in sight…

Yeah…

Somehow he knows. The difference between all the versions of me.

His voice is softer on the phone. And he doesn’t push me if I don’t answer his questions, don’t respond.

Instead, he uses those moments to talk about himself. His own fears and uncertainties.

“Do you think I’m good enough… no… can you tell that I’m working hard… to be Noct’s Shield… like… do I seem stronger to you…?”

“Of course, Gladio.” I’ve got my head smooshed against the pillow. It was one of those mornings where I couldn’t will myself to get out of bed.

“I just… I don’t know, man… I have this recurring thought… you know the ones that pop in for no reason…?”

“Mmmn.”

“Like… I’ll be having this picture play out in my head… Noct in trouble… but it’s always… I’m always too far away… or not fast enough… not strong enough… it’s stupid, fuck… I know…”

“It’s not stupid.” I hold the phone close to my ear. If I’m closer- it’s like Gladio’s voice is living in my head. “I worry too. Maybe more than you.”

“Yeah, Igs. Don’t think I don’t notice how you work yourself to exhaustion.”

“It’s not like that…” I find I can’t really conjure up an excuse.

“I can tell when it gets to you, Igs...” Can he? Was I that transparent?

“I’m alright Gladio.”

“You don’t have to lie. You’re hurt. It’s ok to be hurt.”

“Not in my position. Not while I still have duties to attend…” Duties I am actively ignoring today, it seems…

“That’s why you’re so strung out all the time, sheesh! I worry about you too, ya know. Ignis… I can tell you’re down… and I know you don’t really want to listen to all my bullshit.”

“That’s not true.”

“Psshh…”

“I mean- yes, I’m not feeling my best today. But if I’m being honest, your bullshit might be the only thing I want to hear right now.”

“C’mon Iggy…”

“Gladio…” I sigh deeply, and I like to think that in that moment, Gladio’s got his phone tucked against his ear, so close, almost enough to feel my breath through it… “I mean it. Please talk to me.”

There’s a pause. If I imagine it maybe, I think I can hear Gladio’s heartbeat.

“Igs…”

I sigh again. Can he hear everything I’ve been suppressing, shoved down in my chest…? 

“Can I come over?”

“Yeah.”

I don’t think about the fact that it’s nearly noon and I’m still in my bed. Don’t think about my appearance- disheveled, unkempt… not how an advisor was supposed to carry himself. I flop down on my mattress and wait. The storm in my chest hates me for agreeing to meet Gladio. But there’s that part of me- the part that’s maybe still here- that curls around the prospect, clinging to Gladio’s last words like a lifeline: “Be right over.”

I don’t fix my manner of dress- soft pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. At this point in my day of melancholy, I had already decided I was absenting myself from the afternoon’s duties. Noct would understand. It still doesn’t make me hate myself less. And it still doesn’t quell the anxiety I have at the concept of exposing myself to Gladio. But I’d already agreed to have him come.

If I let him see me like this… would he understand me more…?

I try not to think about it.

Because when he’s here- all six foot six standing in my doorway, a look of quiet sympathy staring down at me- it’s all I can do not to break down my walls, and fall apart into him.

“Hey, Igs.” Is all he says. Because he’s far too kind for my own good.

“You didn’t have to come.” I can’t tell him how much it means to me.

“I know. But I’m here now.”

Somehow… we end up on the floor again.

My apartment has a thick rug… but I think we both aren’t worrying about sore backs right now…

“Is it always like this…?”

“This being…?”

“The weight of the world… or something…”

“This about your fear of not being good enough?”

“Hmmn. Maybe it’s not just me though. I look at you, Igs… and gods… we’ll both end up beating ourselves to death if we don’t do something about it.”

“Well what’s there to do? We have a duty-”

“I guess I mean more about our feelings, ya know? It’s this thing. This _struggle_. I know it gets to me, and hell, I can see it chewing you to bits right now-”

“Do I look that bad, then?”

“Hey, Igs. You know I’m not judging. How can I?”

I can think of several ways… but again…. Gladio is too kind.

“I can’t imagine how hard it must be to stifle all your feelings away.”

“I don’t…”

“Igs.”

“Yeah. I suppose my cover’s been blown.”

Gladio chuckles sadly. I would pause the world right there, live in his bittersweet reflection if I could- the impression of half-sorrow… half-joy… that might have been a picture of me…

“Do you know how much you make me better?” I say it before I can help myself.

Gladio just blinks at me… all honey-gold eyes. Open and startled.

“I mean it.” No going back this time…

He looks at me curiously now… tilting his head to get a better look… like maybe he’s seeing me for the first time… or a version of me for the first time… which one though…?

“You’re stronger than you think.”

I think that, from him… it’s probably the highest compliment. Always worried about his own worthiness… Gladio carries his esteem in terms of strength.

I fold my arms around my chest. “How can you be so sure?” …So sure I wasn’t broken? Because I could feel my cracks now… all straining under my depression.

“What are you most afraid of, Iggy?” I don’t know if Gladio is changing the subject, or just trying to reach his point in a roundabout way. He's laying next to me, close enough to touch, long legs stretching on the rug.

I answer him candidly, because I can’t find a reason not to, not with him staring so openly like that. “Failure.”

“Failure at what? What are you afraid of losing?”

“Everything…” I dig deeper. “Myself… I suppose. I don’t want to lose myself so much that it’s all gone.”

“Til what’s all gone?” Gladio nods at me, like I’m somehow going along with his plan. “All the things that make you good… all the stuff you like about yourself… what are they?”

“Gladio… I… I don’t-”

“C’mon, Igs! This is good! What is it you like about yourself?”

“Really I… I don’t know…”

“Iggy. I would tell you all the good stuff myself, sing your praises til I was blue in the face but- it’s gotta be you! You gotta be the one to find the good stuff, so you know what to hold on to.”

I nearly choke with emotion I didn’t know I had. Some kind of feeling- an anthemic burst of affection… maybe it’s called love… I can’t tell…

With my heart in my mouth, I stutter “I- I’m responsible I suppose… and I always like to be prompt…and dedicated… that way, people tend to take me seriously…”

“That’s good, Igs! Go on…”

“I… I enjoy little comforts… preparing a meal and such… I find I am quite capable of completing certain tasks if I set my mind to it… and then there’s my memory, which I’ve been told is quite impressive…”

He watches me unravel myself. And gods… he’s smiling… and his reaction makes me give credence to my own words… if only just to see him brighten.

How could I tell him…?

That he knew just what to say.

Just how to pull be back from the depths of my own suffering.

It’s dangerous, I know- attributing my recovery to a person.

But Gladio lets me uncover my own reasons for finding a way… 

He leans back and looks at me and… gods… I don’t feel so broken.

I think that it might be enough...

That maybe the gold in his eyes would fill in all my cracks. Like sunlight on tree bark. Make me something beautiful. If only in the daylight.

I think that… maybe this _is_ my true self… the one I thought lost… the Ignis that was happy…

Gladio was just showing me the way back to him… back to me.

We lay on the carpet for hours.

And when the daylight’s gone… he's still here.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ignis is crushing hard lol. My poor sad broken boy. Don't you know that you're loved??   
> ~enjoy

Gladio is soft in sleep.

It’s unexpected, I suppose. He’s so… strong, hard, firm.

But as I watch him dream, I can’t help but trace the line of his jaw with my thoughts, the feather-fall of lashes on soft cheeks… eyes closed, but I can almost feel the warmth of their gold heat…

He looks… _cute_ , I think. Velvetlike skin, dark hair swept across his forehead. Breathing; in and out, in and out.

I fall back to my pillow, and I try not to think.

Because if I think… I might ingratiate myself with his heart.

And that’s too dangerous.

Gladio had spent the night with me, after nearly a full day of… talking, breaking… healing…

He lays on the right side of my bed and I can’t fully comprehend it.

How I didn’t protest when he ordered dinner; we ate on the floor- or how I let him talk me out of my breakdown until midnight, the deep gravel of his voice something like a lullaby…

Somehow… we ended up in my bed… and I didn’t have a say in the matter apparently. Because my brain had been on standby. Where was the Ignis that was rational, hmm? The one that should say _I’m quite alright, Gladio, thank you for your assistance, but I think I can superintend myself from here…_

Well- he was battling with all the thoughts I had been trying to suppress, so it seems. As I am now. Still. Try as I might to actively forfend my intrusive feelings… I can’t help but-

Watch him as he sleeps…

Gladio’s close enough to touch.

Dare I surrender to my thoughts…?

The ones telling me to reach out…

To touch his lips with my finger… and find out if they were really as soft as they looked-

Gladio blinks up at me, my hand outstretched.

My heart might have stopped.

“Mmnngh… morning…” He smiles shyly, nestling his face into the pillow.

I flex my hand and pull it back, before he can say anything.

“You been awake awhile? W’time is it anyway?” He slurs slightly, still languid from slumber.

“It’s early.” I say “You don’t have to wake up yet if you-”

“M’fine. Already awake. See?” He drags a hand over his eyes, blinking until they’re clearer. Then he gives me such a _look_ \- warm, affectionate. Wreathed by something like curiosity. I have to force myself to _not think_ again.

Regardless of how wakeful he really is, Gladio nuzzles his head back down on the pillow- still seeming so soft, so impossibly soft- and covers his face with a hand, looking like he was hiding a smirk.

“What?” Even my own voice is thicker with sleep, and I feel all the more self-conscious.

“Nothin’, s’just…” Gladio peers at me from under his hand. “Never seen you without your glasses. You look so young.”

I think I might be blushing, so I drag my own hand up to conceal it. “Yes, well… I prefer to wear them even-”

“It’s not bad, Iggy.” Gladio chuckles lightly. “S’different. You look nice.”

My fingers still cover my face, and I’m glad for it. Because I’m pretty sure the expression I make in response would expose my impropriety.

Gladio stretches, pulling his head back and groaning and still I am _not thinking not thinking_ …

“Mind if I use the bathroom, Igs?”

“Of course. There are fresh towels in the cupboard. And I keep extra toothbrushes in the second drawer. For emergencies I suppose…” Was this an emergency then? Having a sinfully attractive man spend the night without the forethought of bringing his own dental paraphernalia? 

“You think of everything, don’t you Iggy. Add that to your list of positives.” He winks at me as he disentangles from the sheets and I think I might be choking.

I cough instead and rise from the bed, already arranging the blankets back to order. 

Gladio takes his time in the bathroom, and I use the moment to sit on the edge of my bed and well… quite frankly… lose my shit.

The thoughts buzzing in my head- all of them noxious pests- attempt to consume me. How had I let myself lose control so much that I… gods… I never would’ve imagined asking Gladio to stay with me… _all night_. He was just a friend, right? A friend helping me out because I have _so many issues_ , apparently. If I hadn’t been on the brink of a breakdown yesterday, this all could’ve been avoided. Gladio in my bed, Gladio in my _thoughts_.

How had I let myself get so vulnerable? I remember a few things we had spoken about yesterday; Gladio telling me that this was something I could overcome and that it was ok that I let things get to me, but... somehow… I can’t help but feel that my own personalities are all conspiring against me; all for a desperate plot to get me to debauch myself with all of these thoughts I am _not thinking not not not thinking_ …

As if to punctuate the fruitless war I’m having with myself, Gladio sticks his head out the door of the bathroom. “Hey, Igs? Mind if I take a quick shower?”

“Mnhng.” I’m pretty sure the noise I make is not distinguishable as human. Thankfully I recover. “Of course, Gladio. Everything you need is on the shelf. Please help yourself.”

“Thanks,” He smiles, damn him. “Ignis.”

The way he says my name, the way he shuts the door shyly, and the way my heart starts pounding in my chest all threaten to undo me.

If, let’s just say, I allow myself the brief notion of unfiltered reverie, which I _don’t_ because I am _not thinking_ …

But… if I was thinking… it might be something along the lines of… Gladio in my shower… bare chest… and his strong, strong arms… would they hold me if I asked…?... the water finding a path down his body… my finger could do the same… I could outline his form, study it… trace every edge… see if he’s broken too… and maybe we could line up all our cracks and fissures… see if they aligned… maybe together…we might make something whole…

The sound of the shower drowns me. And all the thoughts I am not having.

So much for self-control.

It’s all futile, I think, anyway. I shouldn’t let myself hope. Not when I’m like this. So worthless. Gladio would never feel that way about me, would he. Now that he’s seen my fragility. I wonder if it’s possible to feel more pathetic. Gladio- who venerates strength- he’s seen me at my lowest point. How could he feel anything towards me but obligated pity…? Gladio- who’s strong… kind… beautiful. I could never touch him, I realize. Not something so perfect.

When he finally emerges from the steamy bathroom, I’m almost certain he can see right through me, especially by the unease bleeding into his expression, and what he says next: “You alright, Ignis?”

I have to take a moment to reel myself back. “I-I… I just…” Gods… I didn’t want to ruin this relationship by my own depravity. Gladio would feel disgusted if I told him of my attraction, surely.

“I meant, are you feeling any better? From yesterday.” Gladio pats a towel over his still damp hair.

 _Oh_. I rub my hands on my knees, realizing I had been sitting at the foot of the bed since he’d gone in. “I suppose I’m feeling a bit better. Thank you.”

Gladio scrunches his eyebrows, water still dripping down his forehead. “You don’t have to thank me, Igs. You don’t have to lie to me either. I hate seein’ you so hurt.”

I don’t know how to respond. It’s very hard for me to look him in the eyes, so I focus on the bedspread.

Sighing, Gladio leans against the door frame “I know you probably want to go on like this never happened. Right? Just pretend you’re ok for the sake of it? But if you’re still feeling things… bad things… I wanna help you Ignis.”

Little does he know that he’s probably doing the opposite of that; just by being here, in my room, in _my head_. I feel like I’m suffocating.

Abruptly, I’m on my feet. “I need… excuse me… I need to freshen up.” I bolt past him into the bathroom before he can stop me.

_What was wrong with me?_

I slump against the door I had just slammed, breathing heavy.

Standing in front of the mirror turns out to be a mistake. I lock eyes with myself and it’s all I can do not to start pulling my hair out. My hair that’s been hopelessly tousled by sleep; and Gladio’s seen me like this. _Gods_. I crush my hands against my eyes, bracing against the sink as I try not to drown in all the negativity threatening to overwhelm me.

Too late.

My mind starts running the misery loop; that’s what I like to call it. The one where every thought is laced with poison. The slide-show montage of me throughout the previous day now highlighting all my insecurities, every wrong I’ve committed, every stupid fucking thing that’s ever had the audacity to leave my mouth. And Gladio had witnessed it all. It’s all _too much_. He must think I’m beyond pathetic. Too pitiful to even consider. And, surprisingly, that thought doesn’t even break my heart. What does is the idea that I could have been good enough- that maybe if I was who I was supposed to be I wouldn’t have to worry about feeling like such a mess. I _could_ have been good enough. Or something like it. Instead I’m just… _fractured_.

The tap on the door makes me jump. I’ve still got my hands wound up in my sloppy hair. “Ignis? You good?”

I had no way of knowing how long I’ve been in the bathroom. The thought makes me even more alarmed. “I’m ok. Just be a minute.” I take pride in how steady my voice is. It’s something at least.

Quickly, I brush my teeth and use the toilet. Then I attempt to salvage my hair without really looking in the mirror. I don’t want to face it again.

Gladio is sitting on my bed when I reemerge. The same spot I’d been sitting. Not knowing what to do, I just stand in the doorway awkwardly.

I watch as Gladio runs his fingers along the bedspread, tracing a pattern onto the soft silk. He hadn’t looked up at me as I entered, and I feel a sudden distance from him.

I hug my arms around my middle, feeling vulnerable.

Still not looking up, Gladio quietly mutters “Do regret talking to me?”

It’s not what I expected, and predictably I still don’t know how to respond.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. If I did. I’m sorry if I’m overbearing. It’s just…” He sighs deeply. “I don’t really have a lot of people to talk to, you know? Not friends or anything. I don’t know I… I just felt like we had a connection or something… maybe…but… I’m sorry if I forced myself on you-”

It seems that my body gave more reaction than my brain, because… without meaning to, I move to his side.

“Gladio. I-” My brain catches up. Insensible as always. Fumbling, I plop down next to him.

When he finally looks at me, Gladio looks so conflicted it nearly breaks me. I want to curl up and never think about anything ever again. But my self-executing body has other ideas. My hand reaches up… and swipes away a droplet of water that had been trailing down from his temple to his cheekbone.

He is soft… after all.

I rub the wetness between two fingers and hold his gaze. “You never forced anything on me Gladio.” I could speak, it seems. And once I started-

“I don’t know how to tell you…I’m not sure there are words enough to spell my gratitude… but… gods… Gladio… just…you talking to me is more help than I ever deserved… I mean it…you’ve reached a part of me that I’d considered vacant… I don’t know how to let you know… that your words have filled me…but I’m still… I’m still so afraid… that I’ll take too much… that I’m too far gone… I’m afraid that you’re wasting it all on me… I’m so… so broken… it’s not…I…I’m sorry…I’m sorry… I don’t know how to tell you…”

Gladio’s hand is on my face. Warm, firm. The hand that pulled me back, I think. The one I reach for when I’m drowning.

“So don’t tell me.” He says. And the voice is calm; it’s the one I listen for at the bottom of the ocean. The distress signal.

I blink open and it’s to amber eyes. The sun, it must be. Shining through dark water.

He’s pulling me, and we both fall… dropping onto the mattress, his hand still on my face. We lay. And blink. And he’s still holding me.

“Don’t say.” Gladio says. Hardly a whisper.

I would never find the words.

The ones that told the story of the feeling in my chest.

The ones that would describe the way I reach for him- he’s so close… so so close.

Gladio grips his hand against my cheek. And I don’t blink again. Because I fall closer.

There aren’t words.

Not for the brush of his soft lips against mine. Not for the red fire in my aching ribcage.

How could there be?

With Gladio holding me, taking me to the surface... I bid farewell to the rational Ignis. He would try to spoil this moment. By thinking. I _can’t think_. 

Instead, I let myself touch and be touched.

Gladio’s hot mouth against mine. His fingers at the nape of my neck. The short breaths he makes in-between.

His dark hair is still damp. I clutch at it with shaky hands.

And I gasp.

Gasp for air that feels brand new.

This feeling.

One I had never known.

It could never be spoken aloud. 


End file.
